


Out in the Open Forest

by flustered_mugs



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 10:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14809727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustered_mugs/pseuds/flustered_mugs
Summary: Mugman has something to ask Cagney. It’s a little embarrassing.





	Out in the Open Forest

**Author's Note:**

> ALL CHARACTERS DEPICTED ARE 20+ YEARS OF AGE
> 
> moving this over here, from my tumblr. it's the same url as the name i have here lmao. i'll be moving my other fics onto this account too. hope you enjoy

It’s hard to ask Cagney for something like this. To ask him anything related to the topic, even. But the thought has been plaguing Mugman’s mind for weeks on end and, if he were honest, it has been a source of several intimate sessions between his hand and himself.

But now the flower is towering over him, shooting him a quizzical look as he questions the young mug’s trembling and Mugman isn’t sure if he could get himself out of this even if he wanted to.

He won’t though. He wants to know.

No, he _needs_ to know. So he reaches up to clumsily grab at his straw and bring it down to his mouth for a quick anxiety-driven sip, allowing the smooth flow of water to quench his thirst and relieve him of his tightened throat.

It only does so much before he’s letting his straw spring back into place.

“I uh-.” He starts smartly, looking up at the carnation in brief intervals before looking away each time as he fiddles with his gloved fingers. Finally, he starts his downfall with a rush of a few words and some nervous shifting atop the log he sits on.

“I really like you, Cagney.”

He’s immediately met with a guffaw from the other, his docile expression scrunching up into something sweet as he brings up a leaf to cover the lower half of his mouth when he speaks next.

“I sure would hope you do, Mugman! We are an item after all.”

The lax reaction is enough to have Mugman smiling softly as well, his trembles lessening by the slightest.

“Heh, I know. I just mean…I really like you Cagney. As in, I really, really like you.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two after Mugman’s confession, stretched thin as Cagney blinks down at the younger mug and pulls a frown. He doesn’t say anything though, just waits on Mugman to elaborate.

So, with a shaky breath, he does.

“I want…I want to be able to take things further with you.” His gaze is on the forest floor beneath his shoes, eyeing the tiny flowers and dandelions so that he won’t have to look Cagney in the eyes.

“Is there…is there any way for you to…feel nice? For me to give you that nice feeling?” Even when he’s asking outright for _it_ , Mugman just can call it what it is. Of course he winds up being vague as everything about it. He fights to not mentally chastise himself for the moment. That can wait until after he’s gotten his answer.

“Well I feel nice just being with you. I’m not too sure what you’re asking of me here, Mugman.”

Damn his vagueness.

“Physically, Cagney.” He tries again, licking his lips. “Is there any way I can help you feel nice, physically?” Mugman chances a look at the carnation.

He’s still frowning, looking confused as ever.

Deciding to throw it all out into the wind, Mugman finally chooses to take a more direct approach.

“Sex. I want…I want to have sex with you, Cagney.” His trembles are back at full force, accompanied by a fiery hot, snowy blue blush taking up his face. He looks down at his lap and fiddles his thumbs together to try and keep himself from spontaneously combusting thanks to the utter embarrassment overtaking him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but…I’d really like to get intimate with you. I-I just don’t know how I can make you feel good in turn. Sexually.” He adds.

A moment of silence passes between them once more, long enough that Mugman closes his eyes and exhales a soft sigh, readying himself for a rejection.

It never comes. Instead Cagney has shifted and brings his face into Mugman’s view, giving him a curious look as he lays his giant leafy hands over Mugman’s lap. All too suddenly the image of a cat seeking attention enters the mug’s mind.

“Sex? Isn’t that how your kind makes kids?” Cagney tilts his head, his petals tickling Mugman all over. “Is that why you people are always doing it? It feels good?”

Taken aback by the sheer ignorance Cagney has towards the matter at hand, Mugman can only stare at the flower with his eyes wide and his mouth gaping. He’s only brought back to reality once the flower before him starts to grin and prod at his belly in order to evoke a response of any sort.

“Y-Yeah…- Cagney, can you not have sex?”

That sharp-toothed grin grows evermore as the carnation’s previously sweet and innocent expression morphs into something a little more wickedly.

“Not in the traditional sense, my dear mug.”

Oh wow.

Cagney’s voice has dropped into something a little lower, a little more seductive. It makes a shiver run up Mugman’s spine.

“What do you mean?” The words come out timidly and Mugman can only watch as Cagney brings himself closer, setting his hands on either side of the smaller boy’s body.

“Folks don’t call what they do in the forests of Inkwell ‘forest follies’ for nothing.”

Before Mugman can question him on the implication Cagney is bringing his face even closer. The two are a hair’s length apart, staring into each other’s eyes for a tense few seconds. It’s broken when Mugman closes his eyes as Cagney nuzzles into his cheek, humming in affection and satisfaction.

His next words are whispered and they strike a hot feeling of lust straight into the mug’s stomach.

“I’ve seen what teenagers and adults alike come here to do, Mugman. I’ve learned from them well enough.”

There’s something curling around his waist, tightening against him like a belt. The sensation spreads to his chest, then his wrists and his arms. Mugman tries to look at the source of the feeling and catches only a glance of slithering green vines wrapping around him before his face is being coursed back into looking up at Cagney by his hands.

“I would be more than happy to take care of you like that.”

Slowly and far more gently than he had expected, Mugman finds himself hoisted up into the air for a few seconds before he’s set down onto the soft forest floor. It’s only then that he realizes that a bed of flowers ranging in various colors has suddenly grown in front of Cagney. It’s thick enough that he feels cushioned on it.

It’s comfortable and soft.

“C-Criminy…” He gasps as the sharp tips of Cagney’s fingers slide underneath his black shirt and lightly graze his soft, porcelain skin. His fingers knead into the plush give of his tummy.

“Well isn’t the pottery deceivingly soft, hm?” Cagney chuckles and leans down to nuzzle into Mugman’s face.

“C-Cagney…-!” Whatever he was about to say gets wiped clear off his mind as the thumb to the plant creature’s other hand presses into the strain on his shorts, a clear indication of just how much he is already enjoying this. He’s cut off with a choked off noise that extends into a whine as tries to reach down to cover himself in a basic-instinct attempt out of embarrassment, but he finds his wrists to be restrained by what he can only assume is another long string of vines.

“Not very soft here though. That’s pretty funny.”

Mugman can only whine and turn to face the stretch of his own arm above his head, trying his best to hide his face as he can already feel the inability to control his expressions and reactions to the stimulants come near.

The weight of Cagney’s gaze lingering over him as the flower stops his ministrations feels physical to the young mug. It’s enough to make him close his eyes shut tight and shimmy his hips in the other’s hand to try and guide him back to the task at hand and to, hopefully, remove his shorts soon.

“C’mon now, p-please don’t get me begging for it.”

Regret and red-hot lust mix in the confusing cauldron that is Mugman’s stomach at Cagney’s following laughter.

“Well now isn’t that a thought?”

Mugman isn’t one to usually cuss, even in the privacy of his own mind, but the thought still intrudes:

_He is so absolutely fucked._

**Author's Note:**

> i still don't know if ill ever continue this or not. probably not. its pretty old so i feel a bit embarrassed by it aha


End file.
